Maybe
by Rekboi
Summary: Ron was bored. This ministry party sucked. Why was he here again? Oh yeah, his dad. Wait a minute, who was that incredibly beautiful looking blonde eyeing him from the punch bowl? (A short from the universe of The World Crumbling Around Us, but can be read standalone.)


**A/N:** _Holy heck! Here we go! I never imagine writing this pairing and I've honestly never read one before either, but it was fun regardless! If those of you are curious about how Ron and Draco came to be together, this is a super short extra from_ **The World Crumbling Around Us** _about their relationship forming! Hope you enjoy! Art from the cover is by the amazing ** fuileachd **on DeviantArt!_

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Ron had never been more bored in his life. Strike that—memories of his Aunt Muriel's birthday party were still echoing in his head. Even so, his brain felt like it was decaying the longer he watched his father and Percy talk back and forth between the attendants at the party.

Ron fought with his hair to stay slicked back, but it kept sticking up in odd places, the gel not nearly enough to tame his wild short red hair. His black suit was uncomfortably hot, and the stupid red bow made him feel like a damned toddler. Why was he here anyway? Did his dad think he'd want to follow in his footsteps or something?

Ron wanted nothing to do with the political tundra blowing around him, the fake smiles, the piercing stares judging everyone's move. No, he'd be okay with his dream of becoming a firefighter, but of course, that wasn't enough for his family. His older brother Charlie was a veterinarian, Bill was a business accountant, Percy was close behind his father's steps, Fred and George planned on opening their own business for something or other, and Ginny was too young to worry about it.

Wasn't that enough for his parents? Couldn't he be the one with a modest job that he dreamed of as a child? He knew their family wasn't always well off, but that didn't mean every single one of them had to get a well-paying job. Firefighters were paid well too! Maybe not as well as an accountant or vet, but it was okay, right?

Ron sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening and drowned in another goblet of punch. What a bunch of cheapskates, this wasn't even made well! Ron rolled his eyes as Percy laughed overzealously at a woman who was batting eyes at him.

'Bloody bint,' Ron thought bitterly, trying hard to keep the frown from surfacing. 'This sucks.'

"I don't think I've seen anyone that exudes such hate as you at one of these ragers," a snarky voice had Ron turning towards grey eyes and perfectly styled blonde hair, a stray strand or two falling down the pointed but angelic face.

Ron breathed in sharply, the grasp on his goblet turning his hand white. The boy was gorgeous, his fair features looking like that of a model on the front page of a teen magazine. How did he miss this face in the crowd of old, ugly leering men whose tongues hung from their mouths at other women when their wives weren't looking?

"Wow, hateful and dull, quite a range of emotions you have there Weasley," the blonde drawled again, his smirk irritating Ron to no end.

Ron shook out of his stupor at the mention of his surname. "You know me?" his dumbfounded expression didn't help his position on the other's words at all.

"Red hair, freckles, completely underdressed for this type of shindig?" Ron blushed under the scrutiny of his attraction. "Yes, my father deals with your father's division often enough for me to hear about it. I'm more offended that you don't know me."

Ron took a moment to access the other boy, the dark blue suit obviously explicitly tailored for him, it's suede material forming to his body sinfully, much to Ron's chagrin. The black tie with barely visible intricate designs looked to cost just as much as Ron's whole attire. Suddenly, Ron was feeling two feet tall, even if he had two inches over the other boy.

"Malfoy," Ron stated with a blank look. Oh yes, his father had many words about Malfoy senior and how much he wished the man would take his head out of his ass for more than two minutes. The Malfoy's were very much the essence of money and Lucius, the man above his father's office, loved to shove that in Arthurs' face.

"Oh, goody, a point to the poor weasel," Malfoy grinned in sadistic pleasure.

Ron was taken aback, were Malfoy's all like this? Clearly, Malfoy was meant to walk in his father's shoes with his overconfident smile and arrogant nature. Such a shame that someone so incredibly beautiful would be tainted by a shite personality.

"Does being a bloody arse run in your family, Malfoy?" Ron shot back with fire in his voice, his eyes quickly trailing over the form of the other for good measure. Just because Malfoy was a bastard, didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the view.

"Does being a dimwit run in yours?" Draco scoffed.

Ron and Draco stared each other down until Ron gestured rudely to the blonde's disgust.

"Maybe if you had the money, you'd be able to buy some class," Draco sneered.

"Maybe if you weren't such a stuck-up twat, you wouldn't be so offended by a finger," Ron crossed his arms, thankful that their position by the punch bowl was yet to be compromised by others. He could imagine what his dad would say to Ron's behavior, regardless of who it was.

"Maybe if your family weren't so uncultured, you wouldn't have to scrounge for insults by such caveman actions."

"Maybe if you weren't so damn beautiful, I wouldn't feel like a bloody idiot for being attracted to a prat."

Draco's retort died on his tongue, a flush spreading on his cheeks. Ron stood there, mortified that he let his stupid mouth go off again, just as his brothers always made fun of him for. He'd never live this down.

"Well I—Maybe if—You could just—" Draco's words were incoherent, stumbling over each other as his embarrassment grew. How dare this handsome red-headed oaf of a man make him stutter! Malfoy's do not stutter!

Ron, finally out of his stupor, shot Draco a slightly confident smirk, who spluttered more in response.

"What's the matter Malfoy?" Ron said, trying to take the upper hand, "You'd think someone as gorgeous as you would have people lining up to talk with you, yet here you are."

Ron delighted in the red blooming across the neck and ears of that pale skin, wishing to leave a more lasting mark there instead. Draco's eyes were wide, caught off guard at the freckled boy's forwardness. Most of the time he had people eating out of his hands while he turned the charm on, but the tables were turned today, and he didn't know how to handle it.

"I talked to plenty of people tonight, not that it's any of your business," Draco sniffed, his nose turned upwards, though the red didn't fade from his complexion.

"Maybe you just weren't talking to the right ones then?" Ron offered, his eyes raking over Draco's form appreciatively.

Draco was a bit of a sucker for praise, and his preening over Ron's attraction was obvious, especially at the soft smile he shot the redhead. He looked around for his father for a moment and decided that tonight he wouldn't care about silly reputation boundaries he'd be crossing.

"Maybe you're right," as those words slipped from his lips, Ron grinned wide and held a hand out like a true gentleman. Draco took it with only a slight hesitation. As their fingers wrapped around each other, a spark of rebellion shot through Draco at the thought of his father finding out, and he couldn't help to smile stupidly back at the redhead's lips touching the back of his hand.

"For someone of a lesser class, you're quite the charmer," Draco said primly.

Ron exhaled a short laugh, then without preamble, he tugged the blonde forward, the lithe body colliding with his stockier but masculine frame. A soft gasp was pulled from Draco's lips before another set hovered over them, and Draco froze, unsure of what to do. Then, Ron's smile was close enough to feel, before a ghost of a kiss passed over his cheek and the warmth Draco felt a moment ago was gone.

"Maybe we should get to know each other a bit better," Ron said, chuckling at the dazed expression on his partner. "Then I can show you just how much class I have."

"Maybe," Draco breathed, still very aware of the larger hand casing his own. "We'll have to see, I suppose."

Maybe Ron wasn't so bored after all.


End file.
